Beginning of Everything
by TheMultiverseTheory
Summary: The tales of how Sam Cortland became an assassin, made a friend, and fell in love.


_"The heart is stubborn. It holds onto love despite_

 _what sense and emotions tells it._

 _And it is often, in the battle of those three,_

 _the most brilliant of all."_

-Alessandra Torre

* * *

 _PROLOGUE_

Sam's mother was visiting Arobynn again, bringing Sam along and leaving him in the drawing room. His mother usually left him at the brothel with Amaris, but the woman was on an "errand" tonight and his mother didn't trust any of the other ladies to watch over him. So Sam waited in the luxurious room while his mother went into another with the auburn haired man. She never told him what the two did, but the nine year-old wasn't oblivious. A courtesan they called her. The brown haired boy had been to the grand manor a few times before, so he was no stranger to it.

He heard pounding from the nearby room. Curious, Sam peered in, seeing a girl punching a dummy with Ben supervising from nearby. She looked not much older than he, her golden hair tied into a braid. She didn't notice as Sam walked further into the room to watch her with awe.

Ben greeted him with the kind smile he always seemed to be wearing. "Sam! How are you, m' boy?"

The girl whipped her head around to see who Ben was speaking to. Her bright eyes met his brown ones and he couldn't help but let out a silent gasp. They were a brilliant turquoise ringed with gold, a combination Sam had never seen before. She looked at him a few seconds longer before turning back to the dummy and resumed punching it.

"Celaena" Ben scolded "Don't be rude."

Celaena. That was her name.

Celaena whirled around again, an irritated look plastered on her face. "Hello." She greeted him, seeming none to happy to do so.  
Sam was bewildered. What had he done to the girl to make her so angry at him?

As if Ben read his mind, he spoke up. "Don't worry about her. She's always this pissy."

Celaena scowled "I certainly am not!"

"See what I mean, Sam?" Ben grinned in the boy's direction. At that, Celaena sent a glare in Sam's direction. His eyes widened slightly at the expression.  
She huffed and went back to beating up the dummy with what seemed to be infinite rage. Sam almost felt bad for it. No words passed between them except for the occasional tips Ben threw in. Sam continued lurking beside the man, until he excused himself to go help someone else. After a few minutes Celaena seemed to grow bored of beating up the dummy and turned back to Sam.

"Why are you here?" She asked suddenly, taking Sam by surprise.

"I'm waiting for my mother."

"What's your mother doing here?"

Sam hesitated before answering, not wanting to tell her the truth. He wasn't ashamed of what his mother did; it's just that some people didn't approve of it.  
"She's with Arobynn right now" he replied, not exactly lying.

"Are you a courtesan, too?" She asked.

"I never said my mother is a courtesan" Sam answered back, slightly flushing red.

"Well, is she?"

"None of your business." He snapped.

A pause. Then, "fine." She stomped out of the training room, leaving Sam to chase after her. She didn't give any indication to his presence, but continued walking down the hall.

"How old are you?" Sam was curious. He knew about the type of people who lived in this manor and what they did. Sam could never imagine what it was like to be an assassin.

"None of your business" Celaena mimicked and continued on. A few seconds later, "eight ".

She didn't ask his age but Sam told her anyway. "I'm nine, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't", she replied.

Sam ignored that. "Where are you going anyway?"

"Nowhere. Away from you."

Sam glared at her. They turned a corner when he asked, "What's your problem, anyway?"

"That you keep bothering me," she answered not bothering to glance at him. They kept waking down the endless hallway.

"Have you ever killed someone?"

Celaena paused, causing Sam to run into her. She turned around to look at him on the ground. Though she was shorter than him, from the ground Celaena towered above.

"I'll start now, if you won't shut up."  
Sam stood up and shot daggers at her with his eyes. Celeana remained unaffected. A silence remained between the two. Finally the girl spoke.

"You never answered my question." Sam looked up at her.

"Are you going to be a courtesan?"

Sam knew that she was aware of what his mother and Arobynn were doing in the room just across the hall.  
"No. When mother gets enough money, we'll leave Clarisse and the other ladies. We'll be free."

Celaena stared at him and Sam swore there were tears in her eyes. But before he could get closer to confirm it, she spun back around and continued walking ahead.

Sam didn't follow.

* * *

Sam's mother was dead.

Her throat had been slit open while she slept, never to wake up again. The body was discovered by Sam who walked into her room, only to find her once lilac sheets coated with red blood. Sam had screamed when he found the body. Kept screaming, even when his throat started to burn, to the point where all of Rifthold was awake. He only stopped when his voice was gone. She was gone and would remain that way forever. She would never look at him with those loving brown eyes again. Never again.

"A tragedy," Clarisse called it. He knew she was only talking about the money that was yet to be repaid by the dead woman. Besides Amaris and few others, no one seemed to grieve for his mother. It seemed that the only emotions his mother's death inflicted on the other ladies was fear and relief. Fear for their own lives and relief for less competition. His mother was too pretty, even in her thirties, to be allowed to live.

And the worst part? The worst part was that they were just weeks away from freedom. Just a few weeks, and they could have finally left.

Sam was to be sent to Arobynn to train to be an assassin. It was his mother's request, that Sam be sent to him. Just in case. She knew the risks, the dangers of her occupation. But she couldn't leave, wasn't allowed to, not until she paid her debts. And much of her savings went to Sam's care. This was Sam's fault.

As he exited the brothel, many of the courtesans gave him hugs and their condolences. Sam didn't know most of them. Amaris, his mother's closest friend, walked him out into the carriage. He fit his few belongings into one chest. It contained only his clothes and a ring his mother gave to him. It was more of a band, really. Made of silver, it had been his grandmother's wedding ring. The band was all Sam had left of his mother.

It was not long before the carriage had stopped before a familiar manor. This was to be his new home. The auburn haired man was waiting for him on the porch. He did not greet him or pretend to be saddened by Sam's loss. Arobynn simply nodded at him and gestured at Sam to follow him to his new room.  
It was grander than the last place Sam and his mother slept in by a long shot. The furniture was nothing short of luxurious. The view from the window was beautiful. And it was all for Sam.  
He wished he could be anywhere but here.

"Dinner is in an hour. You know where the dining room is. Training starts tomorrow." And without another word, without bothering to ask if Sam had any questions, Arobynn stalked out of the room, off to much better and more important things. Sam was thankful for it; he was in no mood to speak to the man who only saw his mother as an object to play with whenever he got bored.

Sam unpacked his things quickly, for there was not much of anything to unpack. He went to the window and stared out at the city of Rifthold, looking out at all the buildings and wondering which one he and his mother would have lived in. They might not have even lived in Rifthold at all. His mother always spoke of wanting to go to Fenharrow, where his grandparents had met. But there was no more thinking about it now, not when she would no longer be there to speak of its fields of wildflowers and endlessly blue skies.

Sam remained that way, staring at the window and wondering of what could have been, when the bell for dinner chimed. He thought about not going at all and just staying in his room forever, but his stomach growled in protest. Reluctantly, he got up and walked down to dinner. The dining room was elegant, as expected. The long table could fit about thirty people, but there seemed to only be about half as many residents in the manor at the moment. Sam recognized Ben and went to sit beside him, earning the boy a kind smile.

"I'm sorry about your mother."

Sam said nothing and looked down at his plate. The seat across from his was soon filled by a familiar face. Celaena's eyes met his, and he saw the recognition on her face. For some reason, Sam felt pleased to have been remembered by the girl, even though it had only been little over a year since they last saw each other. She quirked an eyebrow, wondering what he was doing at the Assassin's Keep. He looked away, not feeling like talking about his mother. Celaena narrowed her eyes in return, but didn't attempt to speak to him for the rest of the meal.

Finally, Arobynn made his appearance, strutting in as if he had all the time in the world. Of course, this was because the meal wouldn't begin without his arrival, Sam learned, and all the residents of the manor had to wait until the King of Assassins was seated at the head of the table before they could allow themselves a bite. Sam internally scoffed at the concept. How stupidly arrogant Arobynn must have been to have instated this rule. The boy was almost tempted to shove a potato into his mouth for all to see, just to find out what would be done to him, but Arobynn lifted his glass and clinked it with a spoon to gather the attention of the assassins. Not that he needed to make the gesture. From the moment he walked into the room, Arobynn had all the eyes of the assassins on him. And he knew it. Smug bastard.

"Attention, all. It appears that we have a new assassin among us. A potential one that is." Arobynn signalled to Sam, earning the boy stares from all around the table. Most looked indifferent to the new presence. Others wore vicious smiles, with promises of torturous hazing. There were few besides Ben who gave him welcoming grins. "Sam Cortland will now be training and living at Asssassin's Keep, just like all of you, so I expect him to be treated like any other assassin." _Treated like any other assassin?_ The command was vague, possibly being in Sam's favor or not. How were assassins usually treated?

Without another word, Arobynn Hamel sat down in his red velvet chair, the only one distinguished from the rest, and stabbed his fork into a roasted potato. Like a knife cutting through air, the tension was immediately lifted, and soon everyone was talking, laughing, and chowing down on the food. Sam picked at his plate, finally stuffing himself with carrots and beef. The food was delicious, and made Sam's mouth water. He was well into his third plate when he could eat no more. Some of the assassins finished their meals earlier and had left the room already, but there were still many left. Sam was about to make an exit, too, but he felt eyes lingering on him. From across the room, a grimy young man, probably around nineteen, was staring at him. His dark eyes seemed to laugh at him from afar, and Sam noticed an odd scar on the man's exposed shoulder-a set of talons that had left a deep scratch.

"Stay away from him."

Sam looked up to see Celaena looking at him, her face full of warning.

"Tern will only use you to get what he wants." She continued.

"And what does he want?" Sam asked.

A sly look appeared on Celeana's face. "To become the heir of Assassin's Keep. As if Arobynn would ever willingly hand down his title to that disgusting ratfest."

Sam let curiosity take control. "Who's the heir right now?"

Celaena jumped off her chair and started heading toward the door with Same in tow. "Me," she said with an expression of nonchalance, but Sam could detect the smugness behind it. "Well, I will be in a few years, at least. I'm Arobynn's 'protogee', as he likes to call it. That's why Tern hates me. Beaten by someone nine years younger than him- that must really hurt."

"Does Arobynn give you special lessons in cockiness, as well?" Sam couldn't help but say. Celeana only clicked her tongue.

"Don't tell me you're jealous, too. I was hoping we would be friends," she said in a tone that told Sam she didn't mean it.

Sam scowled. "I don't care about being heir to some assassin's group. It's all just sounds stupid to me."

"That's good," Celaena patted him on the shoulder before he could swipe her hand away. "Because you weren't going to get it, anyway." And with that, the golden-haired girl walked out.

Sam glared at the door and felt his hands curl into fists. Arrogant. Cocky. Pompus. Conceited.

He hated and envied her at the same time. How could she care about nothing when there was so much to lose?

He was going to make her care.

He was going to spite her.

He was going to become heir to Assassin's Keep.

:::::

The training room was filled with the musk of sweat. It was more packed since the last time Sam had seen it, when it had just been Ben, Celaena, and a few others. Now, all the residents in the manor were in the room, training or mentoring others. Sam could barely throw a dagger properly, yet everyone who surrounded him were experts in all weapons galore. Arobynn had informed Sam that his training began today, but the man was nowhere to be found. So the boy lurked around a corner, hoping that if no one noticed him, he would be able to disappear.

"So you're Sam Cortland, hm?"

A boy a few years older than Sam was standing before him, observing the new resident of the Keep. Sam returned the favor, noting the older boy's darker skin, and curly brown hair. His hazel eyes were peering at Sam with curiosity.

"Wesley's m'name. Just Wesley—I was an orphan on the streets before I came here. I don't know what would've happened if Arobynn didn't take me in." He held out a hand. Sam shook it.

"I s'pose you'll need help training," Wesley started. "I'm happy to offer. When I first came here, no one but Ben helped me out. Took me months to figure out some basic maneuvers. But with me," the boy winked at Sam. "You'll be an expert in no time."

Sam wasn't sure what to say. He was glad for the help, but wasn't sure if this was what he wanted. Sure, the swordfights had Sam in awe, and the backflips were nothing short of cool, but _killing people?_ He knew that was the endgame for all this. And Sam didn't know if he could do it.

Out of the corner of his eye, a familiar figure sauntered into the room. Celaena dropped her face towel and canteen by the wall and headed for the mats. Sam watched as she sparred with herself, performing different positions. Wesley caught Sam staring and frowned.

"She's pretty, but she's bad news."

Before Sam could say anything, Wesley came charging at him with the smile of a madman.

Sam's face morphed into one of panic, surprise, and just all out fear before everything turned black.

:::::

For the second time that day, Sam woke up in his bed feeling dazed, but this time, more confused.

The light streaming through his window was stronger than the usual morning gleam.

He felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up to see Wesley sitting on the end of his bed, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Have you—have you been watching me sleep?" Sam stuttered.

Wesley stood up from the bed, stretching. "I just came to check on how you were doing. What do you remember?"

What was he talking about? Sam sat up a little and felt a pang on his head. What the...? The memory of Wesley running towards him slowly returned and Sam looked up to meet the eyes of the culprit.

"You're insane." Sam said with a shuddering breath. Wesley only laughed.

"I can't believe I passed out in front of everyone." Sam said, mortified at the thought.

"No one was looking anyway. Don't worry about it."

Sam glared at the fellow assassin. "Why did you do that, anyway? I was completely unprepared."

Wesley was leaning by the doorway now. "It was just a bit of hazing, no worries. And your new life here is bound to be filled with surprising situations. Lesson one, young pupil. Always be prepared for anything," Wesley flashed a grin. "and everything." With that, the curly haired boy left the room.

Sam wore a bewildered look on his face. How has his life come to this?

* * *

 **Wow, thank you for reading! :)**

 **I'm not sure how I'm going to do this, maybe one-shots or regular chapters, or what idk.**

 **Whatever, I'll figure it out as I write.**

 **Anyway, tell me how the chapter was in the review section.**

 **Kay**


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